Other Films:

Publications

On KRISTOFFERSON: books—

Shipman, David.
The Great Movie Stars 3. The International Years
, London, 1991.

Weddle, David.
If They Move. . . Kill 'Em. The Life and Times of Sam Peckinpah
, New York, 1994.

* * *

Active in the film industry for thirty years, Kris Kristofferson never
seemed too bothered about movie stardom. Already a major singer-songwriter
and recording artist, the anti-establishment author of "Help Me
Make It through the Night" and "Me and Bobby McGee"
adapted well to acting without developing either a dominant film presence
or a discernable career plan. Ruggedly handsome, Kristofferson appeared
relaxed and easygoing onscreen, agreeably masculine rather than
aggressively macho, confident enough in himself to be believably sensitive
and caring towards the likes of Ellen Burstyn and Barbra Streisand. During
the mid 1970s, Kristofferson carved a niche as Hollywood's premiere
romantic co-star, yet the big hits were credited to his bigger-name
leading ladies, leaving him with doubtful commercial standing as a solo
act. Kristofferson's ambivalence towards the movie business
didn't help, the actor abruptly quitting the wartime romance
Hanover Street
(1979), then announcing his retirement. Judging by Kristofferson's
subsequent career, many film executives took him at his word. That said,
even the peak period of the 1970s was an uncertain time for Kristofferson,
his first decade in movies topped and tailed by appearances in two of
Hollywood's most notorious flops (
The Last Movie
;
Heaven's Gate
), with some bizarre choices in between. Whether bearded or clean-shaven,
singing or non-singing, Kris Kristofferson never quite found his movie
niche.

Effectively—if predictably—cast as Pike, a fading pop singer
and reluctant drug dealer, Kristofferson's amiable character is in
tune with the era: alienated, rootless, amoral and casually promiscuous.
At times, Pike's laidback manner slides into outright lethargy,
even when trashing a difficult client's office. Victimised by Gene
Hackman's blackmailing cop, he puts up only token resistance.
Arguably too straight-looking for a seasoned pusher, Kristofferson lets
his songs bridge any credibility gaps: "From the rocking of the
cradle/To the rolling of the hearse/The going up was worth the coming
down." Driving off alone down a desert road at the end, Pike
doesn't seem so sure: "It ain't fun no more."

Sam Peckinpah's
Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid
should be a highpoint of Kristofferson's career, yet in truth he
was cast more for his chart success and "rebel" image than
his acting ability. Producer Gordon Carroll wanted to draw a parallel
between the "romantic" Western outlaw and the modern-day pop
idol, both prisoners—and victims—of their mythical status.
Peckinpah and scriptwriter Rudolph Wurlitzer fail to bring either the
concept or the character to life, devoting their attentions to James
Coburn's embittered, cynical, haunted Garrett. Looking
self-conscious without his trademark beard, Kristofferson seems out of
place in Peckinpah's West. His most memorable scene involves
turning a shotgun loaded with dimes on R. G. Armstrong's
unfortunate deputy ("Keep the change, Bob"), the drama
taking a back seat to bloody pyrotechnics and a throwaway sick joke. Five
years and five movies down the line, the bearded Kristofferson appears
much more comfortable in Peckinpah's largely despised demolition
derby
Convoy
, scripted by Bill Norton from the hit song by C. W. McCall.
Kristofferson's trucker outlaw hero Rubber Duck is easy-going, sly,
a natural—if reluctant—leader of men and a born philosopher:
"Stay smooth on the surface and paddle like the devil
underneath." Displaying an intense, determined quality rarely seen
in his other movies, Kristofferson lends a much-needed edge to the comic
book hijinks, even the climactic fake martyrdom failing to undermine his
earlier hint of despair over the truckers' plight: "Who the
hell else they got? Nobody, that's who."

Scoring his first popular success as Ellen Burstyn's
rancher-musician boyfriend in
Alice
, Kristofferson fought against typecasting, taking the title role in the
ill-conceived arthouse fantasy
The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea
and playing his first villain—a murderous Vietnam
Veteran—in the throwaway action movie
Vigilante Force.
He did better as the booze-soaked Jim Morrison substitute in
Streisand's mega-hit vanity project
A Star Is Born
, bringing both dignity and humanity to a stereotyped burned-out rock
'n' roll dinosaur. Even in Michael Cimino's
fiasco-on-the-range
Heaven's Gate
, Kristofferson provides a solid, world-weary presence as the moral,
Harvard-educated sheriff, countering the overall lack of plausible
characterisation and narrative coherence.

Off screen for three years after a second major flop with the Jane Fonda
vehicle
Rollover
, Kristofferson returned to films in Alan Rudolph's
Songwriter
, comfortably playing opposite fellow music veteran Willie Nelson in an
agreeably laidback tale that offers no great insight into the country
music business. Kristofferson's original score netted an Academy
Award nomination, perhaps an indication of where many felt his real
talents lay. Reuniting with Rudolph for the near-future parable
Trouble in Mind
, Kristofferson gave his strongest performance for years, cast as an
idealistic ex-cop/ex-con who returns to Rain City to find his former love.
Part of a fine ensemble cast—including Genevieve Bujold, Lori
Singer, Keith Carradine, Joe Morton, and
Divine—Kristofferson's typically low key approach blends in
very well.

Still in demand, Kristofferson's presence in recent movies such as
Blade
and
Payback
suggests not so much a grizzled screen icon offering integrity-for-hire,
as a music veteran and occasional character actor marking time between
tour dates. The pick of Kristofferson's
1990s output is undoubtedly his high-profile cameo role in John
Sayle's
Lone Star.
Appearing in extended flashbacks as the late, unlamented sheriff of 1950s
Rio County, Texas, Kristofferson turns his usual screen image on its head,
portraying an irredeemably vile man. With narrow eyes set in a heavy,
lined face, the swaggering, arrogant Charley Wade offers soft-spoken
menace and a cobra smile. Racist, corrupt, and homicidal, Wade recalls
Cisco Pike's lawman adversary Leo Holland, complete with short hair
and clipped moustache, a neat full circle for Kristofferson. Fittingly,
Wade starts and ends the film as bullet-blasted bone fragments. Was his
going up worth the coming down?